


(6. Husky) / How sweet the sound

by Mothfluff



Series: GO-ctober Prompts 2019 [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, October Prompt Challenge, One Word Prompts, it doesn't take much to make Crowley nervous when it comes to angel sexiness, should this be really rated Teen? I dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 23:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20920355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothfluff/pseuds/Mothfluff
Summary: My attempts at an October Challenge, basically using the original Inktober prompts for drabbles.(Each prompt will be posted as part of a series, not chapters, so I can add tags/characters/ratings/trigger warnings for each instead of the whole she-bang)Prompt 6 - Husky“What’s gotten you into such a stir, dear boy?” He asked innocently as he simultaneously stirred the tea now put on the small side table. Crowley gave a fairly non-committal noise, trying to turn around to head for the couch, but Aziraphale grabbed his wrist before he could evade him.“Was it something I said?” He tried to give his voice the same deep, husky rasp it had had moments before, but for very different reasons.





	(6. Husky) / How sweet the sound

A rickety stepladder, a shelf that had been loaded just a tad too much, and one wrong pull at a book that he couldn’t even remember acquiring anymore, and suddenly Aziraphale found himself showered with a layer of dust. He squirmed and tried to shield his eyes far too late, the only result being that said book was dropped just as quickly and decided to slam down on one of his feet on the way down, causing a sharp intake of breath, and-

Technically, Aziraphale didn’t need to breathe. He tried to remind himself of that whilst dust filled his mainly decorative lungs.

Practically, a nose and throat full of dust was not very pleasant, and definitely required some very intense coughing to get rid of it.

A minute later, and he was still not done. Down from the stepladder, picking up the book, and he was still being shaken by coughs and groans. A slightly higher-pitched sound than that come from the couch near him, where Crowley was almost breaking his ribs trying not to laugh too loud after gleefully watching this particular segment of angel-slapstick.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about this.” Aziraphale wanted to say with resolve, but patting down his vest only caused another small round of dust and another round of coughing.

“You should’ve seen your face, angel.” Crowley tried to imitate it while watching him walk round back to the armchair, the former plan of finally sorting through that oldest of old bookshelves all but forgotten. It was not a very good likeness, more of a grimace, and Aziraphale wanted to say as much, but yet another small coughing fit caught the words in his throat. It felt like it was on fire, and Crowley’s continued laughing did not help him in feeling much better. He’d made rather a fool of himself, he realised, and the demon would be just bad enough to not let it go for at least the rest of the evening. That simply wouldn’t do.

“Now listen here- you’re being very rude-”, he interrupted Crowley’s giggling quite sharply, surprised at his own tone of voice – the rare occurance of strictness in it, mixed with the rough sounds and deep tone left over from the cough, sounded strange even to himself. He somewhat lost himself in listening to it, barely thinking about his words. “You should really behave yourself better, you wily serpent-”

He was almost too busy clearing his throat to notice Crowley stilling immediately. Yellow eyes were fixed on him in a way that had made him feel almost sheepish on previous days, as if preyed upon – except this time it felt quite the opposite.

Crowley sat up abruptly as he harrumphed once again.

“I’ll make you some tea.” He almost stumbled over his own words. “For the voice- your throat. For the dust. Against the dust. Tea. Yes.”

And with that, he almost sprinted away to the kitchen corner.

Aziraphale watched his back as he tottered around, collecting cup and tea and milk and sugar from all the cabinets it was hidden behind. Even for all his eccentricities and random moods, this was strange behaviour. Aziraphale tried to think of what exactly could’ve caused the demon to feel so nervous all of a sudden, when his eyes fell on the tinge of red collecting across his neck, almost crept up to his ears-

Oh.

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to laugh quietly, which he quickly pushed down as Crowley returned with a steaming cup of tea. It was one of those moments were Aziraphale was glad he’d decided to ditch the sunglasses when they were alone. His eyes, darting from here to there to nowhere in particular, told him more than enough.

“What’s gotten you into such a stir, dear boy?” He asked innocently as he simultaneously stirred the tea now put on the small side table. Crowley gave a fairly non-committal noise, trying to turn around to head for the couch, but Aziraphale grabbed his wrist before he could evade him.

“Was it something I said?” He tried to give his voice the same deep, husky rasp it had had moments before, but for very different reasons.

“I suppose.” Crowley managed to squeak out, not turning his face back toward him. That simply would not do.

One quick tug, just as he had to pull down the book, and he was covered with splayed snake-like limbs in his lap instead of dust this time.

“Well, then, I guess the question is”, and he lowered his voice some more as he put his arms around Crowley’s waist, pulled him even closer, “Was it just the voice? Or was it the choice of words as well?”

Crowley was looking everywhere, except for at him, despite being inches away from him. Aziraphale decided to push a bit more. He’d learned by now that sometimes you had to tickle whatever you wanted to prove out of the demon in any way possible (including actual tickling).

“Do you like it when I talk to you like this, then? Is that what made you so nervous to discover?”

“No, I-” Crowley began, trailing off immediately when he realised he couldn’t think of an answer.

“Liar.” And then, a bit deeper, a bit more husky, “Naughty boy.”

Aziraphale watched Crowley’s adam’s apple bob up and down in surprise before he hid is far too telling face in the groove of his neck.

“What a bad demon you are”, he continued, and felt a short giggle breathed against his neck, but also felt the heat now rising from Crowley’s cheeks, proof enough that he’d guessed right. “I ought to teach you some manners.”

Crowley was surely not going to make fun of his little mishap this evening anymore.


End file.
